


Balance

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo wants to go on the quest, Female Homophobia, Homosexuality, M/M, Male Homophobia, Male to Female Ratio Imbalances, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Fluff, Sassy Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aule created the Dwarves, his wife, Yavanna also created a race of her own to mirror them: Hobbits. Both were able to keep their Children, but at a price: they must balance each other the same way Yavanna and Aule balance each other. In other words, where Dwarves have a problem of too few women, Hobbits have the opposite problem entirely. Bagginshield</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He could remember his father’s dismay at his declaration never to wed and the fight that ensued between him and his mother.

To Bungo, it was important to carry on the family line, even if it meant finding a lass Bilbo could court on his own as Bungo had done with Belladonna.

Belladonna, on the other hand, insisted that it was Bilbo’s decision and that he deserved to be treated with respect and be loved for who he is. Not just for his genes or the wealth he was bound to inherit, which, she pointed out, would be two of the greatest reasons anyone would court him.

Bilbo let his parents argue as he snuck out of the house and wandered the forest. A part of him wished he could tell them his main reason for not wanting to get married, but he knew it must remain hidden. After all, no Hobbit male could be seen on the arm of another Hobbit male. He had noticed many ladies were addressed as Madam and Mistress Such-and-Such, but as for same-sex male couples…

They were never seen, leaving Bilbo feeling more alone than ever and wondering if, perhaps, he was just odd. Finding out that he was desirable in the names of wealth and blood only did not sit well with him enough to settle for a lass. It would just be easier to resign himself to loneliness rather than condemn someone to a loveless marriage.

Right?

Satisfied with that conclusion, Bilbo climbed his favorite tree and sought out for Elves.

~Thirty-Two Years Later~

The sun was blocked by a tall figure and Bilbo opened his eyes, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the shift in light so he could see the stranger’s face. The stranger in question was old with a long beard that came to his belt. He dressed in a wide brim, pointy hat that covered his bushy eyebrows and he leaned on a gnarled wood staff, dressed in grey robes.

“Good morning,” Bilbo said.

“What do you mean?” the Man asked, then demanding to know what “good morning” was meant to clarify, confusing Bilbo dreadfully.

“All of them at once, I suppose,” he said carefully. “Can I help you?”

“That remains to be seen,” the Man said. “I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.”

Bilbo arched a brow at that and leaned forward. His mother had insisted that he have at least one real adventure in his life and this might just be his chance. Given the responsibilities usually given to the family patriarch of the Baggins family (it was his father before him), Bilbo had never had the chance to plan his great adventure. And now here it was!

“An adventure?” he asked. “As in a chance to get out of the Shire and see the world?”

“Indeed.”

Bilbo hummed and stood. “Might I invite you inside and ask for the details? Perhaps over a spot of tea? If I’m going on a pre-planned adventure, then I would like as many details as I can get, Mister…”

“Well, I see you do not remember me, though I am sure you remember my name: I am Gandalf and Gandalf means me.”

“Oh, yes! I remember you! I beg your pardon, I was unaware you were still in business. And I thought you were just a firework maker who fancied to call himself a wizard.”

“Well I assure you, Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf huffed. “I am no cheap firework maker as you will see in due time.” Bilbo hummed again.

“Well come on in then and mind your head.” With that, he entered the house and Gandalf followed. He heard the chandelier jingle and Gandalf curse. Bilbo sighed. Did he not tell him to mind his head? Damn the Big Folk. Clumsy and haughty the lot of them.

Gandalf entered the kitchen as Bilbo poured tea into the teapot.

“Tell me about this adventure you are arranging.”

And so Gandalf did. He spoke of an old Dwarf Kingdom far to the east that was besieged by a dragon, the greediest yet of his kind and how his greed drove out a people. He doomed them to poverty and made them nomads till they settled in the Blue Mountains.

Now, their king would lead a group of his people to the mountain in order to take it back. They were, however, in need of a burglar.

“And I thought, well, the scent of a Hobbit is unknown to Smaug, so ideally a Hobbit Burglar would be the best bet.”

Bilbo drummed his fingers against the table and took a sip. “I suppose. And what exactly would I be stealing from a dragon?”

“That is another chapter of the same tale, but earlier set.” And Gandalf explained how the present king’s grandfather found a gem of great beauty naming it the King’s Jewel and how it was lost when the Dragon came. Supposedly, the jewel would summon the Dwarf Armies to unite and kill the Dragon.

“I see. So there is a chance I will not come back.”

“There is.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything here for me,” Bilbo said. “Do I meet this group that will be going on this adventure?”

“Yes. Tonight.”

“And how many are in the group?”

“Including you and myself, fifteen.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“You’ll need enough food for twice that,” Gandalf said.

“Okay,” Bilbo said. “Anything else?”

Gandalf arched a brow, smirking behind his beard. “Nothing that comes to mind,” He said. Somehow Bilbo felt the Wizard was lying to him, but he let it pass for now.

“Very well, I best get to cooking enough for…thirty? Are you sure?” Gandalf nodded solemnly and Bilbo sighed. “All right. I’ve a long day ahead. Good thing it’s still early…And might I know what I will need to pack?”

“A few spare clothes, a cloak, a waterskin, and a weapon of some sort if you have one. I cannot guarantee that the journey will be safe. I suspect no detours nor unexpected entrapments, but better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know how to use a staff.”

“I would get a sword if you can.”

Bilbo scoffed. “A sword? For someone my size? I’d do better with a large dagger. I’ll see what I can find.”

Gandalf nodded and stood. “I will see you tonight, Bilbo.”

“Tonight it is.”

#

The feeling he was still missing information didn’t ebb as he sent a letter to the Thain about his decision to leave and the request to appoint someone as an overseer of his house (not the Sackville-Baggins, _please!_ ) and duties. He mentioned that if he did not come back in three years that the overseer may have the house to do with has he or she wished.

After which, he packed a bag of what he needed as well as his sturdiest clothes. He also, had a little room for his pipe, pipe weed, and a few handkerchiefs. Can’t go on an adventure without at least one in his pocket, after all or so his mother had claimed.

After that, it was a simple matter of getting house ready for dinner. He began with preparing the table and decided not to bother with a table cloth. He wouldn’t have the time to wash it anyway. As for the dishes, well, there was no point is leaving them out waiting to be used, so he dived right into making tonight’s feast.

Three roast beefs, eight lamb legs, five bowls of potatoes, two platters of roasted tomatoes and basil on garlic bread…

Wine from the cellar…

Yep, he felt quite pleased with the spread once he set the last plate on the table. He was not able to admire his work long when the bell rang. He arched brow and went to admit the first of his guests. Bilbo’s eyes bugged. He was tall, firmly built, and clearly battle hardened. There was an intelligent and calculating glint in his dark eyes.

“Dwalin, at your service,” the Dwarf said, bowing.

Bilbo cleared his throat and returned the bow, not breaking eye contact with the Dwarf. “Bilbo Baggins at yours.” He straightened and stepped aside. “Come inside, Mr. Dwalin. Might I take your cloak? Food is in the dining room, second door to the left down the hall way there.”

The dwarf handed him his cloak, the stern gaze turning confused. The doorbell rang again and Bilbo excused himself to admit the next Dwarf.

“Balin, at your service,” he said, bowing with his arms spread wide. He was shorter, friendlier of face with a long white beard. However, he had the same calculating look in his eyes.

“Good evening,” Bilbo said cheerfully. “Come in.”

“Thank you, lad. And yes, it is a good evening, but I fear it might rain later.” He tapped his nose knowingly. “Am I late.”

“Nope. There is one other yet.”

“Ah. Good. Good. Oh! Ha-ha! Evening, Brother.”

Bilbo watched the reunion, wincing when Balin and Dwalin slammed their skulls together with such force that Bilbo feared they’d get concussed. They passed it off as nothing, chuckling.

“Perhaps you’d like drinks?”

“Have you any beer or ale?” Dwalin asked.

Bilbo led them to the cellar where he kept his ale keg. “I was told there’d be at most fifteen people?”

“Yes, there’s more on the way,” Balin said. “The should be here any moment. Oh, fill’er up, Brother. Don’t stint!”

At that moment, the bell rang again and Bilbo excused himself to admit another pair of Dwarves. They were clearly younger than Balin and Dwalin, likely just past their tween years, Bilbo guessed, but still quite young.

“Fili,” said the first.

“And Kili,” said the second.

They bowed. “At your service.”

“You must be Mr. Boggins,” the second said. Bilbo arched a brow.

“Actually, it’s Baggins.”

The Dwarf looked mortified. “I…oh…”

“Don’t worry about it, lad,” Bilbo sighed. “Come inside. Set your cloaks and whatever you wish there— _that’s_ my mother’s glory box!”

“Kili!”

“Sorry…”

Bilbo groaned. These boys…who decided they were mature enough to go on a quest against a dragon?! He’d have words with their guardian when he arrived. And that was if he could identify said guardian without being rude about it.

He showed them to the dining room and they took their seats before he heard hard knocking at the door. Bilbo hoped to get it over with and, thankfully, he was able to. A pile of Dwarves landed on the floor, having crowded the door and he massaged the back of his head.

“Good evening, Bilbo,” Gandalf said, a twinkle in his eye.

“And by good evening, you mean…”

The twinkle died. “I suppose you think you’re funny.”

Bilbo grinned. “I think I’m hilarious.”

The Dwarves got up and introduced themselves one by one. Bilbo greeted them and showed them where to put their things and then turned to the last, who had been under the pile. The Dwarf was handsome, but clearly flustered from being under the pile. He turned to Bilbo and blinked, cheeks tinging pink.

Gandalf cleared his throat. “Bilbo, may I introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin’s Folk.”

“So,” Thorin said. “This is the Hobbit.”

“And this is the King,” Bilbo said. “You seem more like a blacksmith than a King.” The corner of Thorin’s mouth twitched.

“Says someone who looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”

“Touché,” Bilbo said. This could be interesting. “I suppose you’re hungry after your journey here. I’ll show you the dining room.”

This would be an interesting adventure, Bilbo decided, as he and Thorin kept trading glances.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was a hearty affair if ever there was one. There was much singing, laughing, and teasing. Bilbo could do without the food being thrown about, but let it be so long as they didn’t throw the dishes as well, he could live with it.

Thorin, thankfully, seemed to have a controlling manner of sorts on the rowdy bunch and if Bilbo didn’t like something, he stomped on it swiftly.

Truly, he was not only a _very important Dwarf_ , but a noble one and quite respectable as well. Bilbo thanked him a few times throughout the night.

Over a glass of wine, Thorin glanced at him and cleared his throat.

“Tell me, Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon?”

“What is your weapon of choice?”

“Oh, well, I have a walking stick that works well as a staff and I’m quite skilled at conkers, so I could say I’m decent enough with range weapons, but if you’re inquiring if I am particularly proficient in a certain weapon, I will have to disappoint you.”

“I see,” Thorin said slowly before taking another sip. There was an edge of disappointment in his voice. Bilbo cleared his throat again.

“But you know,” he said. “I do not see how a sword or an axe would be much use for a burglar. Are you not hiring me to steal from a dragon? You are not hiring me to be a warrior or a body guard, after all.”

Gandalf snorted around his pipe and coughed.

Thorin hummed and leaned closer to him. “And if I admit I’m interested in a more…private relationship?” Bilbo felt Thorin’s hand on his thigh, sliding inward between his legs. Bilbo repressed the delightful shivers and arched a brow.

“I would say that you’re pushing your luck. King or no, I am not above punching your nose in.” Thorin pulled his hand away. “Do pay heed to your wandering hands.”

“I will keep that in mind and my hands will stay in their pockets unless needed otherwise. If you change your mind, do let me know.”

Bilbo snorted, refusing to meet Thorin’s eyes and drank more wine.

_Green Lady’s knickers, am I openly flirting with a king?! A rather handsome king at that, but damn…_

Another glance at Thorin proved that the king was still eying him, but a faint blush on his cheeks proved that this was not normal behavior for him either. But was it just not normal or was it worse? Bilbo refused to call himself an expert on Dwarfen politics and culture.

On the bright side, maybe he won’t have to live his life alone as he had thought.

After the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, they began to discuss the quest.

There was some reluctance to let Bilbo come, which annoyed him, but in the end, Gandalf convinced them. Bilbo read through the contract and after clarifying some points—he felt a little queasy at the different ways he could die and couldn’t help fainting at one point (and in front of a king at that!)—he signed the contract and they gathered in the living room for more singing.

This time, the song was rather dark and sad as the soft tones came from Thorin’s throat. After that, they went to bed and Bilbo spent much of his last night in bed tossing and turning at the memory of Thorin’s gaze, the sound of his voice, and the weight and warmth of his hand on his thigh.

In the end, he let go of any last inhibitions, deciding if this would be his last night of privacy, chucking his bed clothes and edging the fire within him to come to full flame with each stroke of his hand around his cock. A bit of oil helped the fingers on his other hand edge into his ass.

He paused at the sound of a groan from the other room. A deep rumble. Thorin’s voice.

“Bilbo…”

_Yavanna’s tits!_

The sound of his name in Thorin’s voice and the following groans and sighs stirred Bilbo to continue, pressing his ear to the wall in hopes of hearing Thorin more. He whispered the king’s name once more and arched his back as he finished. Bilbo slumped down and sighed.

_What else am I getting myself into?_

No one answered.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Baggins.”

Bilbo looked up at Ori with half lidded eyes as he smoked his pipe. “Yes?”

“Might I ask about Hobbits and your culture?”

“Why ever for?”

Ori fidgeted a bit. “For accuracy’s sake, I suppose,” he said at last. “All accounts of your people are hardly known and so…well…we’re also very curious about you and your culture. And about you specifically of course.”

Bilbo hummed and scooted down his log. “Take a seat, lad.” Ori brightened and did so, opening his book to a fresh page. “Let’s see…”

Bilbo began with their myths. He barely realized that the camp had gone silent as he spoke. After that, he spoke of their eating habits and love of cooking and gardening. And after that, explained how courting worked. When he mentioned that male-male relationships were taboo, there was an uproar.

Once the outraged Dwarves calmed down, Bilbo cleared his throat.

“Well, male hobbits are actually rare so for males to have relations with others males…yeah.”

“There’s too few males?”

“Yes.”

“Seems like the problem we have, but reversed,” Ori said.

Balin nodded. “It does. And it seems we have quite a few similarities at that.” He smiled at Bilbo. “And that you live alone must play a part in these courtships?”

“They do,” Bilbo said. “There are so many ladies that it’s quite often to find many female-female relationships and marriages. As for myself, well, my family is considered blessed I suppose because we might not have many children but we’re guaranteed to have sons. Personally, I chose solitude because I am, well, I’m attracted to men myself and had no intention of being a piece of meat for any possible suitor that might come along. Aside from being male and having desirable genes, I’m also quite wealthy for a Hobbit.”

“I see,” Balin said.

Bilbo glanced at Thorin, who was staring at him. It was almost uncomfortable.

“We have a similar issue,” Balin said. “Among Dwarves, males are quite abundant and females rare. And females that would want children rarer still. There are so few women that it is, as it is with male hobbits, considered not only selfish, but taboo to be in a same-sex relationship of a sort.”

“Ah.” Bilbo released a puff of smoke. “So I suppose it seems odd that there would be many female couples about.”

“We had seen some,” Nori said. “And had wondered at it.”

“Well now you know,” Bilbo said. “And now you know why I lived alone.” He closed his lips around the lip of his pipe and inhaled. “What else can I tell you…”

#

Dwalin nudged him. “You’re glaring again.” Thorin rolled his eyes and looked at Bilbo again. “You know, you could ask him if he’d object to a courtship rather than a fuck.”

“I’m aware.”

“Just because he turned you down once doesn’t mean he’d say no to courting.”

“I _know_ , Dwalin. Shut up.”

“It’s either telling you to court the Hobbit or watch you scare him off with your glowering.”

“I’m not glowering.”

“You look like it.”

Curse his resting features making him seem angry! Thorin sighed and turned to him. “Yes, I’m attracted to him. Yes, I noticed the lack of beard. The hair on his feet, I assume, make up for it. _Yes_ , I’m being a fool in _pining_ , but we’re going to face a dragon. Any courtship might want to wait, you understand?”

“Well, if you insist.”

“I _do_.”

“Then I’ll let you pine, your majesty.” He stood and walked off.

Thorin glanced at Bilbo again and smirked at the idea of courting him. He’d look gorgeous in gold and gems covering his skin and he’d love nothing more than to see that hair lengthen a bit so he could braid it and maybe he could find a way to braid his foot hair.

That would be interesting and likely cute.

He licked his lips and approached Bilbo, asking if he’d like to eat beside him at supper that night. Bilbo grinned and agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain was remarkably unpleasant and most of the Dwarves were in a state of grumpiness while Bilbo relished the feel of fresh water against his nose. True, it was annoying when his hair got in his eyes, but otherwise he praised the Green Lady for shedding her tears.

If nothing else, it would at least wash away the worst of the smell that he developed since he last bathed.

“Mr. Gandalf,” Dori called. “Can’t you do something about this deluge?”

“It is _raining_ , Master Dwarf,” Gandalf snapped. “And it will continue to rain till the rain is _done_. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.”

Well now that was an interesting thought!

“Are there any?”

“What?”

“Other wizards?”

“There are five of us. Aside from myself, there is Saruman the White, the head of my order, and the two blue wizards…you know I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

“And the fifth?”

“That would be Radagast. The Brown.”

Bilbo smirked and exchanged a glance with Thorin, who returned it. “Is he a great wizard or is he more like you?” Bilbo asked Gandalf, startling a laugh out of Thorin. Gandalf turned around and glared at him.

“I think he’s a very great wizard in his own way…”

He went on about this Radagast person as Thorin sent Bilbo another smirk and winked.

“Stop flirting,” Dwalin snarled. “Mahal’s hammer, the two of you are worse than tweens!”

Bilbo shrugged and Thorin stuck his tongue out at him, the image of a bearded child. Bilbo hummed, wondering at the talent that tongue might have…

 _Enough of that, Baggins_ , he chastised himself. _No reason to get a hard on while travelling._


	5. Chapter 5

Bilbo ignored the fight between Thorin and Gandalf and thought it best not to irritate the wizard more as he stalked off in a huff, leaving Thorin seeming a bit smugger than he probably should. Bilbo approached him.

“Care to enlighten me about what that was about.”

“Elves,” Thorin said. “The wizard insists we head to Rivendell to have our map read.”

“And that would be so bad?” When Thorin glared at him, Bilbo held his hands up. “I only ask. I meant no harm in it.” Appeased, Thorin sat on a low stone, and massaged his chin, tugging at the short hairs. “When Erebor still stood, my grandfather was allied to the Elves of the Greenwood. And when the dragon came, they abandoned us and would not fight nor come to our aid. Perhaps Thranduil, their king, wished to punish my grandfather for his arrogance—as he certainly was arrogant toward the Elves, I do not think it warrants punishing people in distress…”

“It does seem wrong. But why not go anyway? We aren’t going to be in the Greenwood for a while yet, right?”

“True…but Gandalf’s reasons for going…they’re wrong.” He pulled out the map and laid it in front of Bilbo. He pointed at the decorative hand and the runes next to it. “That is the language of my people and it says, ‘five feet high the door and three may walk abreast.’”

“Quite a big door, then.”

“For yourself, perhaps,” Thorin said, smiling at him, eyes gentle. Whatever shadow had been cast on him earlier had passed. “But I would have to duck. I’m quite tall for a Dwarf, and there is question to why that is…some think that an ancestor of mine might have mated with a tall one, either an Elf or a Man, but we cannot be sure.”

“Really?”

“Have you not noticed that Kili is also somewhat like me? And yet, we both have Dwarfen parents. My father, Thrain and my mother Alris were both fine Dwarves and his father is a Dwarf, his brother, Fili, takes after him in many ways, save for that Vali was an archer like Kili.”

Bilbo hummed and sat beside him, leaning on his elbows. “Perhaps there’s more to the map than meets the eye,” he guessed. “If we don’t have to go to Rivendell, why suggest we do?” Thorin grunted, the shadow returning. “I don’t blame you for being angry with them. Far from it. I don’t blame you at all. I do not like it when people stoop to such a level that leaves others hurt. It’s petty and it’s foul! But I believe Gandalf knows this?”

“He does.”

“Then maybe he wouldn’t suggest going unless we needed to. At the same time, it would give us a chance to have a proper bath and get restock supplies.”

Thorin sighed. “You have a point, but _Elves…_ ”

“Now you’re just being childish.”

Thorin smirked and leaned down to whisper in Bilbo’s ear. “And if I persisted? What would you do to a petulant child? Are you going to spank me?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, fighting down a blush. “Don’t tempt me.”

“You know, I think we _should_ go to Rivendell. It’d give us the privacy at least. Don’t you agree, Daddy?”

Bilbo rammed his elbow in Thorin’s ribs, succeeding in hurting himself more than Thorin.


	6. Chapter 6

As Bilbo walked away, massaging his elbow, Thorin stared at his back. It wasn’t as broad as a Dwarf’s, but it was broad for someone of Bilbo’s stature. Quite masculine.

Dwalin nudged him. “Instead of flirting and propositioning him, you could ask him if he’d let you court him.” Thorin looked at him.

“Dragon.”

“You’re point?”

“It’s bad enough that I know he’s my One. But I’m also sending him into the dragon’s den. I’ll take flirting and openly asking him to my bed than opening a courtship at this point. A courtship would be creating an illusion that we have the time to wed and grow old together.” His grin died as he spoke. “Time that we do not likely have.”

“Now you’re depressing me,” Dwalin muttered, glancing at Ori, who was again, inquiring Bilbo about Hobbit culture. “Though, I’d find courting easier in the wild than what you’re doing. Teasing him and knowing you might die—and I emphasize _might_ quite a bit here—is a bit cruel, Thorin, don’t you think. You won’t know if he’d at least like to have one relationship that works for him before he dies. Would that be so bad?”

Thorin hummed, resting his chin on his hand. “I suppose. I’ll think on it.” He stood. “Bombur,” he called. “Get dinner started. Dori, Gloin, get firewood. Nori, scout about. Fili, Kili, watch the ponies. Everyone else, set camp. Mr. Baggins.” Bilbo turned to him. “Might I have a word?”

He approached him. “Yes?”

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior a few minutes ago. I admit you seem to…bring it out of me.” Thorin’s heart pounded in his chest and he felt nervous chills overcome him. He swallowed. “I think you are…brave and smart and cunning and…and I would be honored if you would grant me permission to court you.”

Bilbo grinned, cheeks tinging. “I would like that. You’re quite fine yourself, Thorin. Now if you would call me Bilbo, that’d be even better.”

Thorin felt as light as air, as happy as he was now. “I would like that, too, Bilbo.”

“Well, excellent! Now that we’re agreed,” Bilbo said, clearing his throat. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sitting next to me at dinner tonight?”

“I would not, if you would not might laying your bedroll beside mine.”

“For the love of Mahal!” Dwalin muttered.

“Go away, Dwalin,” Thorin snapped as Bilbo sniggered into his coat sleeve.


	7. Chapter 7

“I’ll take these to the boys,” Thorin said, taking the bowls from Bilbo after Bofur handed them to him. He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Whatever Balin and Dwalin say to you, don’t let it bother you.”

“Okay,” Bilbo said slowly, confused.

“Burglar!” Dwalin shouted. “A moment if you will.”

“Good luck,” Thorin whispered before heading down to give food to his nephews. Bilbo still hadn’t chewed him out for that, but all in good time. Besides, Thorin seemed to have a good hand on them anyway. He approached Dwalin and Balin and cleared his throat.

“You wished to speak with me?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to fret over,” Balin said. “We just wanted to make sure you understand what it means being courted by Thorin.” Bilbo hummed. “Have a seat, lad.”

Bilbo did so, hoping this wouldn’t end with him being snapped in half or something equally unpleasant.

#

Thorin arched a brow at Fili and Kili, standing still and silent. That was not like his nephews at all. Thorin cleared his throat and they jumped, turning to him.

“Uncle!” Kili cried.

“What did you two do this time?” he asked. Fili cleared his throat.

“Well…Kili wanted to go scouting a bit. It was dark, you know, and I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen, so I followed just to make sure he wouldn’t get into any trouble. We got back about five minutes ago and…well…”

“Two ponies are gone,” Kili said. Thorin set the bowls down and counted the ponies. Two were definitely missing. Thorin sighed and turned to them.

“Kili, what did I tell you _never_ to do?”

“Never to wander off on my own and always do what I’m told if I want to come?”

“And did you?”

Kili looked younger under Thorin’s disappointment, even close to crying, though he was trying not to. “No.” Thorin sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Buck up, lad. I think losing the ponies is enough punishment enough, aye?” Kili nodded and Thorin approached he pen. “How far did you go?” he asked, examining the uprooted tree.

“Not far,” Fili said. “And the tree was like that when we got here.”

Thorin eyed the ground, looking for any prints that might…

“Lads, get the ponies and go to camp,” he said. Before they could move, the ground shook as a troll, carrying two ponies—Myrtle and Minty—passed by.

“Are you sure we’ll be okay with twelve ponies?”

Thorin sighed. “Kili, go to the camp and get the others. We’ll need everyone if we’re going to get our ponies back.”

Kili sprinted off and Thorin took Fili’s shoulder. “Let’s go, lad.”

“Um…Uncle, shouldn’t we…”

“I would rather _not_ double up on ponies if I can help it.” Although…sharing a pony with Bilbo, with him in front of Thorin…

Yeah, he wouldn’t mind that. But Bilbo might…

“We rescue the ponies.”

“Okay.”

In hindsight, this might be a terrible idea. He squeezed Fili’s shoulder. “Never tell your mother about this.”

“Wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least we know where Fili and Kili get their recklessness now :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about last week. Internet problems...

“Glad we had this talk,” Balin said, arching a brow at Dwalin. Bilbo nodded, feeling a touch queasy.

“So am I,” he said. “Though threatening life and limb might have been a bit much, I think…”

“Ah, well, that’s Dwalin for you,” Balin said as Dwalin laughed loudly. “Terribly blunt, but he gets the message across in his own way. Don’t worry lad, we won’t actually kill you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dwalin said. “Thorin’s more my brother than cousin.”

“You’re not his elder brother. He’s older than you.”

“Not by much.”

“Trolls!” Kili shouted, running into camp. “Thorin and Fili need help!”

Balin threw his hands up. “What did I do to deserve this band of idiots for royalty?!”

Dwalin squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s go help them.” He turned to the group. “Gather your weapons, lads! We’re having troll tonight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, sorry about the insanely short chapter. Carpel Tunnel's a bitch TT.TT


	9. Chapter 9

Thorin and Fili kept to the shadows, inching closer to the ponies. Thorin grabbed Fili’s shoulder. “Get the ponies. I’m going to try and take care of their food.” He pointed at the hemlock growing nearby.

“Mahal is on our side.”

“Let us hope we keep his favor,” Thorin agreed. “Now.” Fili approached the ponies while Thorin uprooted the hemlock.

“I know I got some seasoning here somewhere,” one of the trolls said. “Needs a touch more.” It turned toward Thorin and paused. “Hey! ‘Oo are you?”

Thorin gaped at them. Hemlock as _seasoning_?! He dropped the plant and unsheathed his sword.

“Du Bekar!” he roared.

“Uncle!” Fili shouted.

The other two turned toward Fili.

“More Dwarves!”

“Maybe more about!”

“Catch them!”

Thorin dodged, slamming his blade into the Troll’s ankle. It hopped about, squealing as though jabbed. Fili rolled out of the way, throwing a pair of daggers which bounced off the Troll’s hide, barely scratching it. “Argh, by Mordor!” he swore, dodging a hand meaning to slam him into the ground.

A loud cry caught the Trolls’ attention and the rest of the company burst through the trees.

“About time!” Thorin shouted, knocking heads with Dwalin.

“You’re an idiot!”

Thorin laughed, and the battle resumed, allowing them to gain the upper hand on the Trolls.

“I got the ponies!” Bilbo said as they stormed past them. Thorin wanted to bang his head against the hobbit’s skull for announcing it! Who did that in the midst of battle when the enemy still lived?

Clearly Hobbits did…

Before Thorin could get to him, he was seized by a Troll. Bilbo kicked and flailed before being stilled by another.

“Lay down your arms or we’ll rip his off!”

Thorin stared and closed his eyes, dropping his sword. _Mahal be damned!_


	10. Chapter 10

Thorin bit at the rope holding his sack closed, hoping beyond hope of loosening it with his teeth while the others wiggled and squirmed about. Those tied to the pike, getting roasted alive, well…

Not much they could do about that.

Blast that Hobbit!

“Let’s get a move on,” one of the Trolls shouted. “Dawn’s a coming and I don’t fancy being turned to stone.” Thorin saw Bilbo halt struggling and jump up.

“Wait! You are making a terrible mistake!”

“Say what?”

“Well, have you smelt them? You’ll need more than sage before cooking up this lot.”

The rest of the company went into an uproar, but Thorin blinked and arched a brow. _Dumb in the face of battle, but still quite a quick thinker. Brilliant when he puts his mind to it…_

“And what would you know about cooking Dwarves?”

“Well…uh…you see, the secret to cooking Dwarves is to…to…”

“Yes?”

“To…uh…yes…to…skin them first!”

Chills went down Thorin’s spine. That was disastrous! And from the way Bilbo blanched after it left his lips, he knew he had made a terrible mistake.

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve had plenty with their skins on.”

“He’s right! Nothing wrong with a little raw Dwarf.” The Troll picked up Bombur, holding him above his head. Bombur screamed and whimpered.

“NOT THAT ONE HE’S INFECTED!!!” Bilbo shouted.

“Huh?”

“He’s got worms in his…tubes…” The Trolls grunted in disgust and dropped Bombur back on the pile. “In fact, they all have. Terrible business. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Did he say we have parasites?” Oin asked.

“Yeah!” Kili shouted. “We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!” Thorin kicked him. Kili looked at him and Thorin arched a brow, nodding slightly. “MINE ARE THE BIGGEST PARASITES!!! I’VE GOT HUGE PARASITES!!!”

 _Good lad, Kili_.

“I got parasites as big as my arm!”

“We’re riddled.”

“They’ve gone from our bellies to our heads.”

One Troll stepped forward and leaned down. “What would you have us do then?” he asked Bilbo. “Let you all go?”

“Well…we’re not exactly edible now are we?”

“You think I’m daft? I know what you’re up to, Dwarf.”

“I’m a Hobbit!”

“Don’t care what you call yourself. This ferret is taking us for fools!”

“Ferret!?!”

“Fools?”

“AND DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!!!” Gandalf declared, finally approaching. He slammed his staff against the rock he stood on and allowed the sun to peek through. The Trolls screeched and screamed as their bodies solidified to stone.

The Dwarves cheered and Bilbo fell over, sighing. “Nearly fumbled it again,” he mumbled. Thorin crawled over to him. “Sorry about that. I suppose I got…a little…”

“You’re inexperienced and you did the best you could. Next time, though, I suggest you don’t declare your presence like that. And come up with something other than skinning us first…”

“Agreed. Not my best idea.”

“Okay, you lovebirds,” Dwalin snapped, untying Thorin and then Bilbo. “I think you should find your clothes and weapons.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Bilbo agreed, shivering. They let him keep his shirt, but his smalls…

Thorin gulped as Bilbo walked off. “Maybe we should have stopped in Bree a bit…”

“Not like he’d wear longjohns anyway.”

“Perhaps not, but we could have gotten him a pair and redone the bottoms so that it wouldn’t bother his feet…”

“You’re turning into Dis.”

“No I’m not!”

“Go get your clothes on and for goodness sakes, don’t stare at the Hobbit’s backside.”

“It’s a very nice backside…” Dwalin rolled his eyes, muttering to himself, as he and Thorin went to find their clothes.

“Thorin, when you’ve dressed, I would like a word,” Gandalf called. Thorin didn’t acknowledge that he heard the wizard and looked for his clothes, keeping an eye on Bilbo as he dressed himself. Thorin sighed.

_One day I am going to lay you naked on a bed…_

“Uncle! Look! Harmless now they are!” Kili announced, climbing them. Fili, Ori, and Bofur had followed his lead and were now balancing on the Trolls’ shoulders and heads.

“Ori! Be careful!” Dori shouted. Nori ran over to join them, hoisting himself up a Troll’s leg.

Thorin shrugged his coat on and went over to Gandalf. “Where had you gone off to?”

“To look ahead.”

Thorin sighed. “And what brought you back?”

“Looking behind.”

_I thought so._

“I see you and Bilbo are getting along well enough.”

 _Well two can play at that game._ Thorin shrugged. “Well enough if you must know.” Gandalf hummed.

“Come with me, there should be a Troll Hoard nearby.”

Thorin turned to the group. “Bofur! Nori! Dwalin! Gloin! Bilbo! Come along! Fili, Kili, Ori, get the ponies ready. The rest of you, keep watch.” They followed Gandalf to the cave and entered. Bilbo gagged.

“Oh, if we’d eaten, I’d throw up.”

“I’m right there with you, lad,” Bofur said, blinking. “Smells mighty awful.”

“Touch nothing,” Gandalf said, leading them deeper and lighting his staff to illuminate the cave. Gold coins littered the ground as well as treasure chests. In the corner were swords and other weapons. Gandalf approached them.

“These blades were not made by Dwarves,” Thorin said.

“Nor by any smith among Men,” Gandalf said, picking one up. Thorin shied away from the sword that caught his attention. “These were forged by the High Elves of Gondalin—Thorin, you’ll not find a finer blade. And they could be quite useful.”

“I have my blade.”

“Why is this one on the ground?” Bilbo asked, lifting a dagger.

“Ah, yet another blade of Gondalin, it looks like,” Gandalf said. “A dagger, yet, but your size for a sword, just about. And light. Should be handy.”

Thorin picked up the blade that caught his eye. It was almost like it called to him. Indeed, it was light. And the blade alone was just shy his own height.

He sighed. Elvish or not, it could be useful.

“We should go,” he said, heading out. “Bofur, Nori, Gloin, Dwalin, come on.”

“You sure you don’t want to look around for more weapons? Could be handy.”

“As would gold,” Gloin added.

“I’m not risking bandits attacking. Weapons can wait, and we leave the gold.”

Gandalf cleared his throat. “I see you took it anyway.”

Thorin looked at him. “You said it’d be useful.”

“The blade glows blue when Orcs and Goblins are about. Same with Bilbo’s and mine. Very useful. Don’t you think?” Thorin glanced at the blade.

“Yes, that is useful.”

“Someone’s coming!" Kili announced.

“Hold your ground!” Thorin ordered. “Weapons ready!”

Bilbo stood by him, holding the dagger out and grip tight. Thorin silently vowed to teach him a little swordsmanship if they had the time. For now, it would have to wait.


	11. Chapter 11

The wizards spoke in hushed whispers a little ways away. Bilbo turned away from them to look at his new weapon. He felt Thorin beside him. “I could teach you how to use it when we have time to,” he said. Bilbo turned to him.

“That would be nice. As it is, I don’t think I’d be much use with this.”

“No, but only in that you’re more liable to hurt yourself right now,” Thorin said. He held his hand out. “May I?” Bilbo nodded and gave him the dagger for examining. “I have taken a look at my own. Very light, despite its length. Still sharp. Probably used as a cooking knife by the Trolls. Pity that, it’s a formidable weapon. As for this, well…it’s longer than the daggers a Dwarf would use, more a short sword for us, but for a Hobbit, I would certainly say it’s a sword. And a nice one at that. Its weight allows you mobility, so you don’t need much power to wield it.”

“You know much about swords,” Bilbo said.

Thorin smirked. “Thank you,” he said. “Perhaps when we have a moment to ourselves, I’ll show you how I polish mine.”

“Why would…” Bilbo blushed, rolling his eyes and punched Thorin’s shoulder. “Behave yourself! What if you’re nephews heard you?”

“Let them. They’re old enough to understand sex. Besides, it’s fun to mess with them.”

“I’m sure you find it so,” Bilbo said. “But playing with me…”

Thorin’s grin died. “Who said I was playing?” he asked. “I like you, Bilbo. I would not deny you a place by my side if you wish it—”

“Well, that’s flattering! But I have a couple reasons we shouldn’t. The first being that we are going to face a dragon. Even steal from it.”

“True as that may be, would that not be cause to at least—”

“Second, say we survive. What then? I’m a Hobbit, Thorin. You’re a Dwarf King. Do you really believe I would be accepted by your people?”

“Yes,” Thorin said, his lack of hesitancy startling Bilbo. “Yes, I truly believe that they would. Dwarves only love once in their lives.”

“But that’s another issue, isn’t it? You want to have sex with me, but that does not mean that you love me,” Bilbo said. “I’m sure I’m quite exotic in your eyes, but I have feelings, and pride…”

Thorin took his hands. “I do not give my heart to just anyone. No Dwarf does. I do not know if I love you, but I certainly am attracted to you in a way that I believe will lead to love. I think you are my One and I would be honored beyond all measure to have you by my side, Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo didn’t know what to say. He swallowed, ready to reject him once more when a howl ripped into the silence. “Was that a wolf?”

“No,” Thorin said. A giant dog with patches of fur missing and yellowed fangs broke through the trees.

Dwalin sliced it’s neck with his axe. “Wargs!”

“That means an Orc pack is not far behind,” Thorin growled, “Everyone get ready!”

“Who did you tell about your quest?!” Gandalf ordered.

“No one,” Thorin said.

“Who did you tell!?!”

“No one! I swear! Why?”

“We’re being hunted!”

Thorin and Bilbo exchanged glances. “We need to run,” Thorin said.

“I’ll hold them off,” The other wizard said.

“These are Gundebad Wargs!” Gandalf said. “They’ll outrun you!”

“And these are Rosgabel Rabbits. I’d _like to see them try_.”


	12. Chapter 12

The Brown Wizard ran about in circles, taunting the Orcs and their Wargs. From rock to rock, the dwarves raced. “Where are you leading us?” Thorin asked Gandalf, who ignored him and pressed them to keep running.

At the next rock, Ori almost ran into the Orcs’ line of sight. Thorin grabbed hold of him. “Ori, no!” he shouted, pulling him back and pushing him back toward his brothers. Briefly, he looked at Dwalin, who nodded his thanks.

They heard the patter of paws on the rock and the sniffing of a large snout. It was followed by a growl. Thorin glance at Kili, who readied his bow and took a deep breath. Kili stepped into the Orc’s sight and shot the Warg. It fell, yelping. The Company slew it and the rider.

“Uncle, I’m sorry—”

“Not now, Kili! Run!”

And so they did, but the Wargs were faster, circling them. Gandalf, at some point, vanished from sight. Thorin cursed him and drew his blade. “Hold your ground!” he ordered, pulling the elven blade free. The Orcs closed in on them and Thorin glanced at Bilbo. He would protect him—

“This way you fools!” Gandalf shouted. Thorin turned to him and they ran to the wizard. Thorin waited till everyone had gone down until following. Once inside, he heard a horn blow and furrowed his brow. Was it another enemy or a new ally? Above, they could hear a skirmish that felled an Orc into their hiding spot. He had an arrow in his neck.

Thorin pulled it out and examined it. “Elves,” he spat. So both enemy and ally, he decided.

“I can’t see where the pathway leads,” Dwalin said. “Do we follow it or no?”

“Follow it of course!” Bofur snapped before Thorin could decide. Thorin arched a brow at that and Balin patted his shoulder.

“Be gentle. He is used to leading just as much as you are. Head of the miner’s guild and all…”

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, they followed Dwalin through the tunnel until they found their way out onto a ledge leading downward into a fair valley and city. The whole place _reeked_ of Elves!

“The Valley of Imladris,” Gandalf said.

“Rivendell,” Bilbo breathed, eyes alight with wonder. Seeing him like this…Thorin wondered—well, hoped—that Bilbo would think so when they had Erebor back. Thorin turned to Gandalf.

“You meant to lead us to our enemies, didn’t you?”

“You have no enemies here,” Gandalf reminded him. “The only ill will you’ll find in this valley is _that_ which you bring _yourself_.” Thorin sighed. “That said, I suggest leaving the talking to me.”

“Fair enough,” Kili said. “Uncle’s not exactly suave.”

“Aye,” Fili added. “and he lacks a certain charm.”

“I happen to prefer bluntness. Say what is meant and be done.”

“Oh?” Balin asked. “Like how you are with Master Baggins?” Bilbo blushed and excused himself, leaving Thorin to fend for himself in the face of the company’s teasing.


	13. Chapter 13

Thorin could say whatever he liked about Rivendell and Elves, Bilbo found it quite a relaxing and charming place to be. The music was calming, the food exquisite, and the beds soft.

The following two weeks were spent in leisure or in training with Thorin—and after training, they’d go and bathe together, leaving Bilbo feeling quite pleased by the hungry look in Thorin’s eyes as they waded in the water.

After one particularly brutal session, Bilbo slumped into the water with a sigh, closing his eyes and letting the warmth wash over him.

“Was I too hard today, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo opened an eye and peeked at Thorin. His arms were spread, resting on the stone ledge, hair curling from the steam and freckles pronounced from the heat of the water.

“No, but my muscles disagree. I’m quite sore.”

“Perhaps I might relieve a little of that soreness. By your leave, of course,” Thorin said.

“A massage? Well that would be nice…” Bilbo admitted, wading closer to him. “And if you like, I can return the favor.”

Thorin grinned. “So I take it you’ll accept my suit?”

“Not decided yet. Let’s call it…well, I suppose we could be lovers, but not the courting type. If we survive the quest and all that, then I will accept your courtship.”

“And in the meantime we share a bed?”

“Exactly.”

Thorin didn’t look entirely pleased. “You’re sure that is enough for you?”

“It is for now. You know my people aren’t…keen on two males together…”

“I do. You needn’t worry about that now. We Dwarves are quite different in that regards. Opposite, if you will. But I would like to court you properly, Bilbo. You deserve more than someone to tumble in sheets with.”

Bilbo grinned, blushing. “I would like that, but for now?”

“For now, I think I can accept it. Turn around. I’ll give you that massage.”


	14. Chapter 14

Guys, I’m sorry. I tried. I really wanted this story to work, but I think I started it at the wrong place and time. I might rewrite it, but this version will be deleted and I’m going to start it over later.


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